Tried it all
Parents scared of my thoughts
Have a lot of lives
A past say; not exactly
At the end all come to a point
Wouldn't say talent or hidden either
A curse to me, didn't like the things.
Was not exactly a beginner
Never thought I had it in me
The freer the verse the deeper the cuts
Good for nothing; Yeah I was
Why care about people did they cry with you
Too much stress too little time
I want some, at least one to hear.
The sun sank in rippling waves
The day ends as if washed away
The harbour is full of sails
What is this town’s name?
Its old streets I see quite clearly
I’m sure I’ve been here before
I know it seems a bit silly
But what did I travel here for
I can’t recall, if you ask me
But if you don’t, I might
Remember the beach and the sea
The lighthouse lamp in the night
From this I could tell you something
What I think you already know
As you knew that I’m good for nothing
But neither of us let it show.
Good for nothing?
Yeah, I know I am.
I know I'm a disaster,
I made everything worse all the time;
I know it all, you made sure of that.
Now, what can I do except saying sorry?
Sorry for the existence I guess,
I don't know what else...
Every time I apologize you say I'm just saying,
Trying to be humble,be good but always faking.
I'm a faker, the fakest of all the fakers out there!
I fake when I love, I fake when I hate,
I fake it even when I say I like a movie,
Said that to just impress someone, you say?!
Pardon me, you are so right
I fake to be loved too.
Who am I kidding, trying to be everyone's dear!
No, I was never good enough to begin with;
I'm just a vain entity full of despair.
It seems to me that plastic lives, are those that are portrayed,
By people whose lives are more than likely, wrongfully conveyed
Social media is good for nothing, except to zombify
People who sacrifice their lives, for the likes that they rely.
Nobody lives a perfect life, plastic lives seem wrong.
Life is far more challenging than the one each claim belong.
And the irony of those who seek, is that nobody truly cares
Each play the game, so in return, their life you’ll have to bare.
In return for all this sacrifice, to prove their life has worth,
They forego the simple pleasures of living on this Earth,
The secret is not creating, the illusion of the best
But being thankful who you are, without the need to be obsessed.
That age brings wisdom, mainly aged say,
And yet, there comes a calm as passion dies;
And as a poet said another day,
The old, as good for nothing else, be wise.
What would I wish a younger me had known?
An honesty of purpose, without fear;
The time is short, before from life we're thrown;
Seek then a steady star, and by it steer.
And cherish well the moments, but recall,
The path through moments will you leave behind;
And when at last, in summing up it all,
It's in the gifts you gave, that joy you'll find.
The role of choice exceeds the role of fate:
Choose then the active, never choose to wait.
Being proud of yourself isn’t enough,
When your loved ones don’t think so.
Thinking you’re tough and strong,
Yet you can’t handle the pain you know.
Every time life starts getting rough,
You bury yourself deep and low.
I try to do things right each time,
But feel handcuffed by winds that blow.
It’s freezing out here, and I’ve nowhere to go,
The cold wind steals the warmth I hold.
And once it’s over, I’m back again—
Good for nothing, with nothing to show.
Just Like an Old Shoe
I am worn and torn
from hard use.
I bear the scuff marks
of a life, lived.
I live alone, my partner
has long since disappeared.
I reside in a dark place
tossed into a corner.
I am no longer in style,
old and forgotten.
I will be discarded someday,
thrown out with the trash.
I am just like an old shoe,
good for nothing.
gigantic girlish ghouls gathered at Gate’s gazebo
glabrous ghouls glistening grotesque globs of gloom
gothic goldbricking good-for-nothing gossips on the go
green-eyed grandstanding grifters, guests of green groom.
When you're lonely and exposed.
Blood, shred and tears.
And after all this time that you still owe.
And after all the blood that you still owe.
After lie, after lie.
Nothing, nowhere.
You're still a good for nothing, I don't know.
And my world, it drifts apart.
I know that inside of me, it's a ing ghost town.
This empty shell is like a noose around my neck.
Beg for the rest of my life.
You're killing me, killing me.
I want to be free from these chains.
And I'm staring at the walls again.
Obsessing over you this way.
I'm so damaged beyond repair.
Leave before you love me.
Through the crystal glass, you gaze at me.
Stare at the pen you got,
Although your brain suffering from a drought,
Thinking about a revolutionary theme,
Then write the poem in your dream.
You got the theme, now pick your mighty pen,
And remember how you wrote, that poem back then.
Just think of two lines and then go with the flow,
How would you think anything, with a morale so low?
You got a good start, now follow a rhyming scheme,
If you can't do so, just stick to the theme.
You just need a little kick, then you will surely kill,
Yes, you are thinking right, you are lacking that skill.
First stanza is looking fine, just need a little edit
Just make it little meaningful, for those who might read it
you can't even think anything relevant, you good for nothing brat,
You need a brain for thinking, one should be aware of that.
This is not an easy task, be happy, at least you tried,
Don't think about that pen, who just committed suicide.
This is not for you; you are going in wrong lane.
Have some shame on you and don't try it again.
To suffer the insults of fools is a worthless thing.
Dismiss, and disregard, unthinking, tactless fellows,
who've nothing else to do (like court jesters of a king)
than peevishly chide, rail, protest in foolish bellows!
'Tis better to give praise, tribute, and to confer fame.
Or, when laurels are scarce, offer instead your support:
sweet words incline the heart, indictments just inflame;
for good-for-nothings just blitz you as a first resort.
Imagine the child
Whom on a daily basis
The only validation or commendation
They were ever given
Was that they were told
They were simply , less in fact
Good for nothing at all
You lack the basic concentration and skills
Required to contribute in order
To your own educational progression
A so called educator teacher themselves
Failed in their capacity and duty to read
And take the time to out
To investigate the fine print and clause
Regarding individuality and creativity
Because if they did
They would then save themselves
The future humiliation that lies ahead
When eventually the 1
Who they let slip through their nett
Comes back to haunt and bite them
And they do not only fail to thank them
Or mention them but rather instead
Smile and have a laugh at their expense
Without even having to do much as
Say a word or mention
Their name at all
Don’t try to put a label on me,
I am someone’s child and I am free.
I am not girl or child,
I am not a truant neither am I wild.
I have my own identity as a proud Black woman,
I am beautiful, special and I am strong.
I am not good for nothing or will I be worthless,
Feed my mind with positive thoughts so I can be empowered like the rest.
There are greater heights that I can reach tomorrow,
Help to build my self esteem not burden me with sorrow.
I am not less than any other person that you see,
I am who I am and I can be whatever I want to be.
Take the shackles off my feet and mind,
Help me to rise up and my rightful place find.
It is not about where I am from but where I want to go,
Who I will be years from now you will never know,
So don’t try to put me down like my life doesn’t matter,
I can soar to the top like you or even further.
Feed me with positive thoughts that can help me rise,
Tell me what it takes to achieve my goals instead of all these lies.
Show me the way so I can truly understand that we can be the same,
Call me dreamer ,better yet ,just call me by my name.
I toured the world in search of deepest cavern,
Into its dark core I yearn to build a castle,
To let my hesitation live the life of his own.
Too much under him I have served
From the infant dawn to the tootless dust,
I have served him enough, haven't I.?
What opulent reward awaits me
For being his only loyal servant?
Procrastination? yeah! procrastination,
A reward of his good for nothing.
#Don't hesitate to do what you belive in.
A bratty six-year-old down in Carlsbad
makes his poor, haggard mother so mad!
He'll be good for a buck
but his mom shouts: Good luck!
Just be good for nothing like your dad!
Written 5/12/22
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